Alone
by RoyalsWriting
Summary: The old glee club is together again! A reunion highschool show choir competition puts the whole gang on a bus to LA. But when tragedy strikes, the group is forced to deal with sickness, injury, death, and worse. They can barely call themselves a family anymore, after they've seen each other's dark sides. WARNING: Major character death, depression, sexual assault.
1. 1: Intro

**IMPORTANT: BEFORE YOU READ  
THIS IS A SHORT, QUICKLY WRITTEN INTRODUCTION, AND DOES NOT REFLECT THE QUALITY OF THE REST OF THE CHAPTERS  
FUTURE CHAPTERS WILL BE BETTER QUALITY, LONGER, AND MORE DESCRIPTIVE.**

 **THANK YOU AND ENJOY**

 **Remember, reviews motivate me to finish/continue stories. If the story doesn't get much attention, i get bored with it. So PLEASE review, fave, and follow!**

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"I can't believe we all came, just for a stupid show choir reunion." Quinn laughed softly, looking at all the adults around her. Everyone had shown up, including Lauren and Rory, who had hardly been in the glee club at all.  
"It's not stupid, Quinn! It's like a family reunion." Rachel grinned at the girl, who rolled her eyes in response.  
"We just missed singing and dancing, I guess. Well, 'cept for Kurt and Rachel. They're still singing and dancing." Finn laughed, throwing his arm around the blonde girl. Kurt smacked his arm, grinning. "Hey, I'm an a _rtist._ " He said dramatically, earning laughs and whistles from the rest of the group.  
"Yeah, dude, congrats. We're flying down to see your show." Artie grinned up at his friend, who smiled back.  
"Thank you so much."  
"Yeah, Broadway man." Mike whistles.  
"I know, I have to pinch myself everyday when I wake up."  
"Plus, it's only been three years since most of us were last here. It was easy to fly down, It's not like any of us have kids. Er... Sorry Quinn..." Tina retreated as soon as Quinn gave her a look. Puck suppressed a snicker.  
They all piled into the old choir room, still chattering of old and new times. It seemed crowded in there, will all the come-and-go members, and the originals in there at once. There weren't enough seats.  
"I put some catnip in the piano before I graduated... I was sure there would it would have grown at least a few cats..." Brittany frowned as she ran her fingers over the sleek surface. "I should get my money back."  
"Britt, no, come sit." Santana pulled her wife away from the piano, sitting her in her lap. Brittany grinned and wrapped her arms tightly around her neck in response.  
"Welcome back, New Directions!" Shuester and Sam walked in, and everyone cheered. "I'm so glad that everyone put their own schedules on hold to attend our little reunion competition."  
"I'm surprised Blaine didn't go with the Warblers." Puck said, eyeing the shorter boy suspiciously. Blaine just laughed.  
"I had more fun with the New Directions, actually." He responded easily, earning a few 'awwww's  
"Well, we have no time to lose. Once we get to LA, we have to practice our butts off if we're going to win this thing."  
"Who cares if we win? I just want some LA boys." Sugar pushed her sunglasses up on her face and someone, probably Rory, whistled from the back. Shuester laughed.  
"The winner gets free tickets to Disney world, and major bragging rights."  
"My daddy could just buy you all Disney tickets."  
"That's enough, Sugar. Okay, onto the bus!"

Loading the bus, there was a friendly chatter in the air. Singing, laughing, shouting. Puck had brought his guitar, and Sam had a million new impressions to show them.  
"I think," Sam said, his voice lower, clapping his hands and waving them excitedly, "That we should do Journey for regionals. Again." Everyone laughed and Tina raised her hand, jumping excitedly. "Mr. Shue! It's Mr. Shue!" She laughed and the principal rolled his eyes from the driver's seat. "My turn." Tina straightened up and pushed her hair back, lowering her voice too. "I have won more show choir competitions than all of you!"  
"That was a bad day! No fair!" Blaine tried to grab at Tina, who giggled and dodged him.  
It was like highschool again. The old friends instantly clicking back into place, though some of them hadn't seen each other in years.  
The energy, though, eventually died down after a few hours. People fell asleep, listened to music. The loud, happy chatter eventually died down to just Artie and Sam in the back.  
"Shit... Can somebody help me read the map up front? I think I missed my exit..." Will frowned at the GPS on his dashboard, watching the unfamiliar street signs go past.  
"I'll do it." Kurt unbuckled his seat belt and moved to the front, leaning against the seat and taking the map from him. He unfolded it and started reading off streets.  
"We are nowhere near where we're supposed to be..." Shuester said quietly, focusing hard on the roads. Kurt frowned.  
"No, West Diamond. This is East... Okay..." Kurt sighed. "Recalculating."  
"What's that?" Puck called from the back of the bus. Kurt and Will turned to look, but the bus was suddenly, it hit them.  
The loudest noise Blaine had ever heard sounded through the air, and everyone started screaming. He felt himself being thrown around, his seat belt holding him in place. He felt a horrible, nasty in his shoulder, heard glass shattering, and then everything went black.

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 **Coming up: Everyone treats their injuries, some major injuries, the first death! (Bum bum buuuummmmm), Blaine being an overprotective puppy, couple people going missing, and Finn being a good big bro.**


	2. 2: Leader Sam

**Remember, reviews motivate me to finish/continue stories. If the story doesn't get much attention, i get bored with it. So PLEASE review, fave, and follow! PS: Last chapter was a bit choppy, but that was just an intro! It only gets better from here!**

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Sam  
Sam Evans woke with a pounding headache, and something wet and sticky covering his hand. He grunted and sat up slowly, taking in his surroundings. Glass, red, bodies, people, and walls of metal encasing him. It was hot out, and his skin was sticky with sweat. The air was so humid that it felt thick in his lungs, and he was uncomfortably torrid. People were yelling, but they sounded far away and fuzzy. A woman was screaming. Santana, maybe. Dammit, was he hungover again?  
Then it all came rushing back to him. The glee club, the bus, the explosion, or whatever the hell that was. That would explain the yelling, then. And the blood.  
God, the blood. His palm was covered in it, a big gash at the center. He stared down at it for a few moments before looking around him, more clearly this time. There was blood on the bus floor. Too much of it. And there was some on the seat, still wet. Was that his? He really hoped it was his. He heard a groan, and realized that Mercedes was passed out across from him, Tina at his right. There was someone else laying down in the back of the bus, but he couldn't tell who. A man with dirty sneakers.  
Sam leaned heavily against the seat as he stood, stumbling around for the door, only to realize that it was on the ceiling.  
Shit, the bus was turned over on it's side.  
Luckily, there was an emergency stop on the ceiling (Now side) Of the bus, and Sam managed to fit through it, struggling ungracefully. As soon as he stumbled out of the bus, though, he wanted right back in. There were more bodies here. And this is where all the screaming was coming from.  
Santana had an unconscious Brittany in her arms, and the blonde's arm was twisted oddly, gushing blood. Mike Chang was kneeling beside her. Blaine was wandering aimlessly around, and when he felt hands on his shoulders and noticed the shorter boy's worried, lined face right in front of him, he realized that he was being spoken to.  
"What?" He said stupidly, blinking a few times so his friend's face became more focused.  
"Have you seen Kurt?" He repeated. Sam shook his head. The hands suddenly left his shoulders and Blaine staggered on, calling for his husband repeatedly. Where would Kurt have gone?  
 _Oh,_ he realized as he looked around the field where they had... ended up. There were unconscious bodies everywhere. Surely they couldn't have just... Become there?  
Images of an explosion, and his friends flying every which way caused Sam to dry-heave, dropping to his knees. He coughed and coughed for what seemed like hours, but could have only been a few minutes or so. He fought back tears, fought back vomit, and fought back the urge to curl up on the ground there and call for his mom. Finally, when he had collected himself, he stood and brushed his knees off. He had to help someone, somehow.  
"Blaine? Blaine..." Sam jogged over to the man, who looked near tears. "I'll help- where- where did you see him last?"  
"On the bus, Sam." Blaine didn't stop moving as he answered him, his eyes darting around nervously.  
"Right- On... on the bus. Stupid question, sorry."  
"No, it- oh my god."  
Sam looked up and saw Blaine staring beyond the bus, eyes wide. Sam followed his gaze to a dirty, exhausted-looking Finn Hudson, who had something on his back.  
Some _one_ on his back.  
Blaine ran towards the taller boy, who carefully set his cargo down. Sam followed and stared down at a broken, bloody Kurt Hummel, breathing raggedly.  
"W-What happened?" Blaine stuttered out. Finn knelt beside the other man, over his little brother.  
"I don't know, he... I woke up, a-and he was next to me, a-and he was awake b-but he couldn't walk s-so I picked him up a-and it hurt him so much- and I tried Blaine, I r-really tried to make it not hurt b-but- but he passed out and..." Finn's eyes were glassy, and Sam suddenly realized the weight of the situation. Kurt could _die._ Kurt, who had donated clothes the second he heard about Sam's family's struggles. Kurt, who always had something nice to say to whoever needed it. Kurt, who would pop out his hip and lay down the cold, hard facts the minute someone insulted him or his friends. Happy Kurt. _Alive_ Kurt.  
"Mike!" He stood and shouted. The boy looked up and Sam waved him over, gesturing to Kurt.  
"What's the m- oh, god..." Mike swore when he saw Kurt, instantly kneeling and running his hand down his torso. Kurt jolted when his fingers brushed over his middle, letting out a pained yelp.  
"I need bandages. For everyone, Brittany too. Finn, Sam, can you two search the bus for me?" Finn nodded and Sam quickly followed pursuit, climbing back into the bus. Sam hadn't realized before how horribly it smelled of thick, new blood when he had woken up in here before. He shuddered and tried to breathe through his mouth as he searched for the bandages.  
"Will sheets work?" Sam held up white bedding sheets from Artie's suitcase. Finn shrugged.  
"I-I... Maybe. Bring them to Mike, I'll keep looking." He said desperately.  
Sam nodded and exited the bus as quickly as he could, running over to Mike, Blaine, and Kurt. Mike had stripped off Kurt's bloody shirt, leaving him bare. There were less cuts than Sam had expected, but his middle was bruised black and yellow. It looked like he had been hit by a truck, or when Anakin Skywalker and Obi Wan Kenobi had gotten into that lightsaber battle, leaving Anakin basically dead.  
He really, really hoped Kurt wouldn't turn into some kind of gay Vader.  
"Will these work, Mike?" Sam held up the sheets and the doctor-in-training nodded.  
"Tear them into strips." He ordered, applying pressure to Kurt's middle, making him cry out in his sleep. Blaine clutched his husband's hand tightly, his own arm's shaking lightly as Sam tore apart the sheets, giving them to Mike.  
"Blaine, keep pressure here, okay?" Blaine nodded and replaced Mike's hand as he wrapped the sheets tightly around Kurt's entire middle, covering down to his abdomen, and just below his nipples. Sam tried not to flinch each time Kurt whined or yelped in pain.  
"He'll be fine, it's just going to hurt a lot for a few days." He assured Blaine, who nodded breathlessly. Sam put a hand on his best friend's shoulder weakly, not able to do anything else. Blaine didn't respond.  
"What's Puck got?" Mike asked, and Sam looked up. Puck was carrying something big, wrapped in his army jacket.  
"Oh my god, is that a body?" Blaine whispered, sending chills through Sam's spine.  
It was. And people gathered around him, the ones who were awake, anyways, as Puck set a lifeless Rory Flanagan in the grass. No one said a word, just stared silently at the boy- body.  
"Who else is in the bus?" Rachel finally said. Sam hadn't noticed her until now, but her face was cut up, and she smelled slightly of vomit.  
"We don't know." Puck responded flatly.  
"How are we going to get out of here?"  
"I don't know."  
"Where's Mr. Shue-"  
"Goddammit Rachel, we don't know." Finn snapped, glaring at her. She opened her mouth, and then closed it, her eyes filling with tears.  
"Puck, come help me with the people in the bus." Sam quickly said, covering the awkward silence that followed. "Mike, go fix Britt up, and Rachel, you help Mike with whatever he needs. Why don't..." Sam took a deep breath and scanned the people around him. There were half as many as this morning. "Uh, Lauren and Sugar, you two start a search party, find everyone. Quinn, you and Blaine can gather everyone who needs medical attention. Next to Kurt, over there."  
Everyone stared at him for a moment, and for a second he feared he was overstepping. But finally, people started moving. Puck followed Sam into the bus, where they found Tina, Brittany, Joe, and Artie. Artie's legs were banged up from his chair, which was nowhere in sight, and Joe had a massive bump on his head. The two boys carried their friends out, setting Joe beside Kurt and the rest in the shade. He stopped for a moment to watch Brittany, sobbing into Santana's chest as Mike wrapped her arm, before walking away again. He had no time for sympathy.  
"Sam?" Quinn said softly behind him, and he jumped slightly before turning to face her. Her eyes were red.  
"We... Found Mr. Shuester and... He's not breathing."  
Sam's chest clenched and he sucked in a breath. No time for sympathy.  
"Cover him up then... Make... Make sure he's..."  
Quinn nodded and walked away. Sam stared after her, blinking.  
 _He's not breathing._ Mr. Shue had four kids and a wife at home. What were they supposed to do now that he was gone?  
Not to mention, he expected Will to take over as leader when they had found him, alive and well. Sam couldn't continue to be leader, he wasn't smart enough. Sure, everyone had followed him, and things were going smoothly, considering. Maybe Finn will take over.  
Kitty was found on the other side of the bus. She wasn't hurt besides the fact that her _hand was missing a finger.  
_ God. Sam hated that that was considered a minor injury to him now.  
They lined all of the wounded up and Mike Chang tended to everyone, using sheets, aspirin, and water to the best of his abilities. Brittany and Kurt seemed to have had it worst, though no one really knew how bad Tina and Joe's head injuries were until they woke up. Santana was cradling a sleeping Brittany, her arm in an awkward, makeshift sling. Sugar and Puck were attempting a fire, and Blaine had Kurt's head in his lap, while Finn sat beside him, glancing at the small boy worriedly every other second. They looked truly, undeniably, broken.  
Sam sat beside Blaine and ran his fingers through his hair for what seemed to be the thousandth time that day.  
"Sam, let me see your hand." Mike said, taking it out of his lap and opening his palm. Sam had forgotten all about the cut, too worried about everyone else's far bigger, worse injuries.  
"Don't waste bandage, I'll live."  
Mike tutted. "It'll get infected. I have to."  
Sam gave in and looked at Blaine. He had his head against a tree, his eyes closed as he mindlessly played with Kurt's hair. "How is he? Did he wake up yet?"  
Blaine opened his eyes and looked at his friend. Sam could only describe the hazel color as one thing now; Tired.  
"No... He's... Just sleeping..." Blaine responded. Sam nodded, a lump in his throat.  
"Mike Chang said he'd be fine." His voice cracked when he spoke.  
"Yeah."  
"Okay, uh... Hey, team, listen." Sam stood and swallowed slightly. "It's- It's probably not good for us to stay here- since- since the air is so... Like... Bomb chemical-y. So, first thing tomorrow morning, we're going to try to tip the bus upright. I had Finn check the engine- Thank you Finn- And it should be working, thank god. So... Make yourselves beds, people should probably share, and uh... Good work." Sam said, trying to word it how Will would have. But he wasn't Will, and this wasn't a glee club meeting.  
Everyone looked at each other silently, before Sugar raised her hand.  
"Yeah, Sugar?"  
"Why don't we just tip the bus up now? I don't want to grow an extra arm because of radiation or something." She shuddered and everyone silently nodded in agreement.  
"So... Okay, yeah... Uh, Finn, Puck, Lauren, Mike, Blaine, and I will each take a section of the bus. The rest of you spread out in between us, unless you're hurt. Or if someone who is hurt is sleeping on you." He gestured to Santana, who smiled at him thankfully. Everyone stood and positioned themselves at the side of the bus.  
"One... Two... Three!"  
Everyone grunted and groaned as they shoved, pulled, and prodded at the bus. After a few grueling minutes, the bus started to tip, and slammed to the ground. The sound of glass shattering sounded loudly, causing almost everyone to flinch. Thankfully, the windshield only had a few cracks in it, and stayed intact. A few people cheered and high-fived. Most just looked tired.  
"Alright. Good, team. Now... Anyone know how to drive a bus?"

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 **Coming up: ROAD TRIP! Still overprotective Blaine and Finn, Sam is a good leader, and TWINKIES! :D (This story is too dark for the :D face.)**


	3. 3: Husband Blaine

**Thank you SO MUCH for all the favorites, follows, and reviews.**

 **Except for one, happy, happy reviewer, who referred to my story as 'poorly written'.  
Well, if you bothered to read beginnings, you'd know that the intro was, in fact, AN INTRO AND HARDLY BENEFICIAL TO THE STORY.**

 **Furthermore, if you're about to bash people's work, grow a pair and don't do it anonymously :D  
**

 **To the reviewer on Samcedes: Yes, I'll have a bit of that later. But right now, Sam was so overwhelmed that he couldn't even think straight. Hence not checking on Mercedes.  
**

 **To the reviewer on the girls: I WILL HAVE FUTURE CHAPTERS WITH THE LADIES. Next chapter will be from the point of view of one of the girls you mentioned, so stay tuned! :D  
and thank you so much, I'm glad you're enjoying this so far :)  
**

 **And to everyone saying that I need to fix my spacing,**

 **I DONT KNOW HOW**

 **anyways, enjoy! (Except you, anonymous fuckers)**

 **Remember, reviews motivate me to finish/continue stories. If the story doesn't get much attention, i get bored with it. So PLEASE review, fave, and follow!**

* * *

Blaine  
Finn had ended up driving, though he had never driven a bus in his life, he figured it was the same as driving a car. Blaine was too tired to protest, and there was no one else to drive, so he let him without a word. Puck sat in the seat behind Finn with a map, reading him directions, though it didn't seem to be helping. Blaine recognized nothing that Puck read off.  
He played with Kurt's hair worriedly, trying not to think about the man's state, or about Rory or Will. Sam had done a good job of loading everyone on the bus, and helping them to forget for a moment and get down to business, gathering all the food and water available, carrying the sick on, and patching up the broken windows with blankets, tape, and sheet music. Water bottles were passed around, food offered, though there was hardly more than granola bars and trail mix, before they set off, leaving their friend's bodies behind in a pathetic-looking, patched up yellow school bus.  
No one had said a word since.  
Kurt's head felt warm in his lap as Blaine Anderson stared out the window silently, listening to the rocks bump and toss under the wheels, and Puck mumbling directions to Finn as he drove. The air still smelt thick and unhealthy like chemicals. Kurt was the first to have a coughing fit, writhing in Blaine's lap painfully, clutching his broken body and crying out, followed by promptly falling back into unsettled unconsciousness. After that, Tina and Mercedes were coughing too. Blaine hopefully blamed it on allergies, but he knew it was something more. No one had the energy to mention it, although. So it remained unspoken.  
There were dead animals all along the dirt road, either being pecked at by birds, or baked in the sun. They didn't look run-over, their bodies still intact and blood-free. The grass was even browning, and the birds looked sickly. As they passed dead wheat fields and sunflowers, Blaine realized that they hadn't buried Rory or Mr. Shue.  
The bus slowed to a stop and Blaine looked up. Finn and Puck were both stooped over the map now, their brows knitted with worry.  
"We're lost aren't we?" He said softly, and the two men looked up at him for a moment, solemnly. Finn finally just shrugged, looking back down at the map. Blaine didn't need more of an answer than that. Stress settled in his stomach and he swallowed dryly, looking back out the window. Every tree for miles on end had been fallen, it's roots ripped up from the ground, it's leaves scattered across the grass like blood.  
The bus started up again twenty minutes later, and no one asked. They've been driving for hours on end, and nothing looked familiar. There were hardly any road signs, or other vehicles at all that were still standing, or intact. Everything was completely barren and ripped apart.  
Blaine suddenly felt movement in his lap, and then coughing. Deep, wet, chest-coughing that shook Kurt's entire small frame. Blaine looked down at his husband, rubbing his back lightly as if he was helping, though he had nothing else to do. Kurt covered his mouth with his hand and coughed harder, tears springing into his eyes and probably hurting his broken ribs. Finally, the coughing subsided, followed by a shaky sob and a whimper. Kurt quickly hid his hand in his pocket and sat up slowly, for the first time in the last day.  
"You're awake." Blaine said softly, looking at his husband. Kurt looked around the bus for a while, clutching his bandaged middle, before meeting Blaine's eyes. Electric, blue eyes that Blaine absolutely adored, that he could stare into all day, and never grow tired of the beautiful color, were ridden with tired, sad, and scared overtones.  
"Yeah." Kurt responded hoarsely, looking near tears. Blaine wrapped his arms around Kurt's waist and held him close, saying nothing else. There wasn't anything else to say.

They sat like that for another few hours. Kurt's head on Blaine's shoulder, his back against the ex-Warbler's chest. Silence waved over the bus, surrounding them all suffocatingly. Violently. Yet awake. Every time Blaine glanced at his lover, his eyes were open and dead, watching the trees and dead animals go by like a movie.  
"Everyone?" Sam finally broke the silence, standing up. The ones that were awake shook the sleeping out of their slumber, gesturing up to Sam. "There's a supermarket right here. We're gonna get food and other necessities. Travel in pairs, and someone has to stay here with the wounded."  
Blaine helped Kurt out of his seat, holding the boy's hand tightly as the made their way off the bus. Finn stopped them and hugged Kurt when he saw him.  
"I'm really, really glad you're okay." He mumbled into his brother's hair, earning a tiny smile.  
"Me too. Thank you." Kurt replied softly, and they stayed like that for a while. Blaine looked down at his shoes and scuffed one against the dirt, feeling that he was intruding, in a way.  
The supermarket's windows were all shattered, though the insides looked mostly still intact. Some shelves were knocked over, but most still stood, and the lights were somehow miraculously still on. The walls were burnt up on two sides, and the sign was destroyed, making it impossible to tell what store it was. Though, it hardly mattered.  
Blaine watched everyone shove food, razors, water, and all sorts of other crap into their pillowcases, running around the store like toddlers on Halloween. Kurt stayed strictly by his side as Blaine hunted for food himself, holding his lover's hand and leading him through like a father and son.  
"Aspirin." Blaine said. Kurt looked up at him blankly.  
"What?"  
"Aspirin. For your... Owie."  
"My owie?" Kurt's lips curled up slightly and Blaine shrugged, handing him the pills.  
"Yeah, your owie. Take your pills like a big boy." Blaine grinned slightly and Kurt managed a laugh, before stopping suddenly. Pain passed over his face and he clutched his side.  
"Kurt?" Blaine frowned and touched his hips lightly, in case he fell or passed out. Kurt shook his head and straightened again, letting air through his nose slowly.  
"Hurts to laugh." He grunted, leaning against Blaine's side, who nodded and opened the pill bottle.  
"Take these. I'll try to find something stronger." Blaine responded quietly, helping the smaller boy into a sitting position, his back against the shelf.  
"The ground is filthy." Kurt mumbled and Blaine let out a short, half-laugh.  
"Yeah, well, I'll be right back."

Blaine didn't know the first thing about medicine. His father was a doctor when he was younger, and he used to play with the rubber gloved and popsicle sticks. He wanted to be exactly like Mr. Anderson until he was about fifteen, when he had come out. They never spoke about doctors again after then. They actually hardly spoke.  
Blaine gathered any pill that said 'pain relief' and decided to ask Mike about them later, also collecting bandages and band-aids. When he came back, he saw Kurt playing with a small, pink box. Blaine offered his hand and Kurt ungracefully stood, holding the box out to Blaine.  
"Unicorn band-aids?" Blaine tilted his head and Kurt coughed into his sleeve.  
"For Britt."  
"Ah."  
"So... Anything else?" Kurt was trying really, really hard not to seem in pain. He stood stiffly, his jaw clenched and his weight mostly on Blaine. He seemed even paler than usual, which was a hard feat. He really was called porcelain for a reason.  
"Uh, no. Are you sure you don't want me to carry you, or something? I can."  
Kurt tried to laugh, but it came out as a snorting, pained bark. "I'm _fine._ Just... Back troubles."  
"Your ribs are broken."  
"I've had worse."  
"You were wearing a cast then."  
Kurt just shrugged and leaned on Blaine more. He sighed and gave up, knowing how stubborn his husband was, he certainly wouldn't give in any time soon.  
The pair made their way to the bus, Blaine helping him up the steps and to their seat in the back.  
Kurt handed Brittany her unicorn band-aids, who squealed and took them.  
"Look, San, look, he's riding a rainbow." She nodded enthusiastically and Santana smiled back.  
"Yeah, Britt, I see."  
"Thank you, Kurtsie!" Brittany kissed Kurt on the nose, who smiled at her softly and slid down in his seat, laying his head on Blaine's chest.  
"Is Brittany... I mean, I know that there's... That she's not all there but... What is it?" Blaine asked quietly, so the girls behind them wouldn't hear.  
Kurt looked up at him. "It's a learning disorder thing. Like... She's delayed, but she's still functional. Half of her is like she's four, and the other half is adult. That's what Santana told me, anyways."  
Blaine nodded and glanced back at the blonde, who was carefully covering Santana's scrapes and cuts with her new band-aids.  
"She's... Fragile about it. People call her stupid all the time, and it's not right. Everyone tries to treat her normally, because she _is_ normal, in most ways."  
Blaine smiled tiredly. "You're a good friend. You know?"  
Kurt met his eyes and smiled back, placing a chaste kiss on his husband's mouth. "I'd hope so."  
Hours of driving were met with more sleep.

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 **Coming up: The New Directions find a place to stay, the gravity of the situation dawns on them, a death, lesbians !, Kurt trying to seem fine (He really isn't), and Mercedes wakes up!**


End file.
